


Epaulette Mate

by templemarker



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2832497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templemarker/pseuds/templemarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they played together, Joscelin learned more about Alcuin than he could ever hope to through conversation. He was continually frustrated early in their game, before he came to know that Alcuin's taciturn face belied a mind as sharp and sneaky as Phèdre's own; they, after all, had the same teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epaulette Mate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriel/gifts).



> This story is a slight AU, where Alcuin lived but wasn't taken to Skaldia following the attack on the townhouse and Delaunay's assassination. Happy holidays, Aeriel!

epaulette mate

After all things, Alcuin stayed at the townhouse. 

Phèdre had tried for years to have Alcuin move, anywhere; to the country, in Azzalle, perhaps, where there was peace and sweetness to be found. Alcuin had never budged, his scar giving him a somberness that belied his age. He had played such a pivotal role for them through the twists and turns of treasonous plotting, relaying information to their confidants at the palace, picking up Delaunay's spy network with barely a beat and doing as much as Phèdre to serve and protect the Queen. For years he had played the part of Delaunay's graceful foster-son, putting on a placid, seemingly open face for the City and its nobles and commoners. And then, when the Queen was rightfully on her throne, married to her Alban beloved; and Phèdre and Joscelin returned, travel-worn and inextricably close, Alcuin retired from public life and returned to the house.

Though the house held death and terrible memories for them both--for them all--to Alcuin, it was his home, where he had grown, where Delaunay had lived and loved and held to his oath. 

Joscelin could understand that, even as Phèdre struggled. She wanted Alcuin to be happy, but Joscelin knew there were things that equalled happiness: contentedness, security. Phèdre, with her wandering heart and grand emotions, sought happiness like a compass pointing ever north. Joscelin loved her, more now that he could have ever believed all those years ago, conscripted to watch a god-flecked noble's plaything, but she did often carry blinders when she believed she was right. 

Though she so often was. 

He had left her in Ysandre's company at the palace, returning to the house where they of course stayed when they returned from Montrève. He and Aluin played a never-ending game of draughts, played in person when they were together, but as often played through correspondence. Montrève's steward knew precisely when a creamy envelope from the CIty of Elua arrived, he was to go in haste to deliver it to Joscelin. They had been playing for years, nearly since he and Phèdre had returned from their adventures. He and Alcuin both had been unused to each other's company, having known each other only briefly before their lives were wrenched apart. But it was impossible not to care for Alcuin when Phèdre was overflowing with love; both Joscelin and Phèdre were unused to spending time apart when they returned, yet Alcuin slipped into their lives with ease. 

Now, they were at the least friends, but truly some kind of family. When they played together, Joscelin learned more about Alcuin than he could ever hope to through conversation. He was continually frustrated early in their game, before he came to know that Alcuin's taciturn face belied a mind as sharp and sneaky as Phèdre's own; they, after all, had the same teacher. Where Joscelin would confront the board head-on, or perhaps obliquely if he was training with his knives rather than his sword, Alcuin barely gave away a hint of his intention until half the pieces had come off the board. He was unpredictable, approaching the pieces with a brutal strategy the one time, and then pivot immediately to a sneak attack that only revealed itself once Joscelin's small army stood demolished upon the squares. 

He did not always win, for which Joscelin was profoundly grateful. Where Alcuin had his mind sharpened from his studies, Joscelin had spent his entire life looking for holes in a defensive line, and he was pleased when he set Alcuin back, surprised, the scar white even as a flush took his face.

Phèdre left them alone to their game, but occasionally Alcuin would shoot him a look and tilt his head slightly in one direction or another, and when Joscelin flicked his eyes that way he would catch a glimpse of Phèdre, watching them. It was exasperating, but sweet, the way these scions of Delaunay were perforce.

This afternoon found Alcuin in the garden, the table near him set with the board, all the pieces moved into place from their last corresponded moves. "Joscelin," Alcuin said with his quiet smile, eyes welcoming. 

"I fear to think what tactic you have in store for me today," Joscelin grumbled, faking his dishumour to see Alcuin's face flash with silent laughter. "You may have won last time, but I shall always remember that counter-offence, and you will be as handily taken as I. You wait."

Alcuin clasped his hands together, hiding his smile in his palms. Joscelin ached for him. He had been a quiet boy before, but full of vitality and sweet disposition. He did not lack for any of those things now, but they were muted. Alcuin didn't show himself to many, and though he tolerated with pleasant aplomb the many guests and friends Phèdre was wont to bring in for dinner or for a brief stay, it was easy to see that he had grown comfortable with his solitude. And, perhaps, his grief; to their knowledge Alcuin rarely sought out friends or a companion. 

"I shall wait," Alcuin said, a mischievous set to his face, "though I imagine in perpetuity."

Joscelin mock-grumbled again and saw Alcuin's shoulders shake slightly. He had come to love Alcuin too, as he loved his brothers, and took secret pleasure in bringing him to laughter.

They took to their board seriously, though not as seriously as they had in other games. The sunlight was golden in the spring afternoon, and tea with the small sandwiches Joscelin somewhat guilty loved were pointedly present on the tray. He munched as he observed the curving offensive line of Alcuin's pieces, admiring the rear rank opening that would allow Alcuin to move a piece swiftly and aggressively when Alcuin's trap sprung. It reminded him of something Phèdre had told him once, about the Hellenes and their tireless defence of some ancient city-state.He held back a groan. He would have to go hunting in the library to find reference to the thing, if only to better understand this version of Alcuin's play. 

Alcuin stared at him, amused, and of course the man knew. He, like his clever sister, could read him far better than he had ever grown entirely used to. 

"Hush, you," Joscelin admonished, and it just made Alcuin's smile grow wider. 

They played as the afternoon came to a close, and activity began to pick up inside the house as preparations for the night's dinner and guests were made. Joscelin didn't miss the all too brief flash of resignation on Alcuin's face, and he captured Alcuin's hand in his own. Alcuin only started a little; he welcomed the contact, had told him so, but it was ever a shock to him, the touch of another. 

"You can miss it, if you want to," Joscelin told him, putting his other hand on top of Alcuin's his long fingers were cold and Joscelin sought to warm him, a little. "She won't mind. Not everyone requires so many people around all the time," he said wryly, knowing he and Alcuin shared a desire for peace and quiet. 

Alcuin's fingers tightened in his own, and while he crossed his legs with beautiful poise, Joscelin new it for the nervous movement it was. "No," Alcuin said, the edge of his mouth turning down, then up. "I don't mind. I do know how to be an excellent dinner guest, after all," he said, matching Joscelin's tone. "She loves it when I'm there. I hate to deny her anything, especially when you're here only a season at a time. I need every minute I have with you both," he continued, fondly. 

Joscelin squeezed Alcuin's hand between his and smile. "Very well," he said. "But you must think of yourself first, Alcuin. All we ever want is your happiness."

Alcuin slipped his hand from Joscelin's and stood, ducking down to place a brotherly kiss on Joscelin's forehead. "Do you think I am unhappy?" he said, the thread of amusement back in his voice. "When you are both here, I am happy as I could ever hope to be."

Joscelin stood, trying not to let his care and concern show on his face. He doubted he was successful. "Alcuin," he said, but no words came. Alcuin quirked his mouth in a smile again, and began to walk towards the house. 

"There is someone coming who I think you might like," he said, stepping fast to keep up with Alcuin. "His name is Quintilius Rousse."

"The man who sailed you across the Straits?" Alcuin asked, his interest piqued. 

"Perhaps he will make you laugh," Joscelin said. "He is a man who enjoys a jest. And we can all do with some laughter."

Alcuin snorted and said, "I bet I can make him laugh before he attempts some witticisms with me."

Joscelin grinned. "Is that a bet I hear?"

Alcuin spun on his heel and walked backwards towards the house. "Oh, brother," he said, light in his eyes. "Have you not learned that you should not wager with me?"

Joscelin laughed and chased him into the house.

**Author's Note:**

> In chess, an "epaulette mate" is when the king's piece is protected on either side by its pair of rooks. Well, I say protected, but given that it's a mate position the rooks are preventing the king from moving out of check in two directions, but I far prefer the analogy to Phèdre and Joscelin protecting the beloved Alcuin.


End file.
